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September 26th, 2025

My Dog Louie, the Best Dog Ever, Is Seriously Ill

We got some bad news about our dog Louie, the world’s greatest dog. Writing his story here is therapeutic, so forgive the oversharing.

In January, 2013, my wife forwarded me this email:

She doesn’t usually use 5 exclamation points or 6 question marks, and the unusual punctuation betrayed her excitement. The answer to “What do we do??????”, of course, was to claim one of these puppies; this would be her first dog.

The father of these pups — Asher was his name — was a special dog, a little guy who reigned supreme at the local gift shop, Wild Goose Chase. He greeted visitors with kindness, bright eyes, and a wagging tail, easily claiming his title as The World’s Cutest Dog. His owners even printed up his own card, one my wife kept in her wallet just for this opportunity.

A couple of months later, after Asher’s pups had grown up a bit, we met the very tired mom and the whole gang of her offspring at their home in western Massachusetts. We chose our favorite — a spotted little guy we called Louie, and brought him home to join our family.

Love at first sight.

Louie was no purebred, as the black spots gave away the unfancy part of his genetic lineage. Embark (yes, we checked) told us he was half Coton du Tulear, and half “super mutt,” a term I particularly like. Since this was always cumbersome to explain, when others asked what kind of dog he was, I often just said he was a mix, or a Havanese, since that’s what he looked like and “Havanese” was easier to say.

Over the years, we’ve bonded with Louie in a way that only dog lovers can understand — it’s nothing unusual, but it’s magic nonetheless. Here’s what happened:

  • He immediately learned his name, and responded to it instantly. Of course his name is Louie.
  • He excelled at eye contact, melting your heart. Stare your way to bigger meals.
  • His sleep cycle gradually fell in sync with ours.
  • We learned his loves and hates, based solely on the barking and yipping sounds he’d make at the door when he spotted a favorite (the mailperson who always brought him a Pup-peroni) or an enemy (a black lab that somehow embodied pure evil to him).
  • His tail and bright eyes gave away excitement for every adventure (We’re going to the park!) or incoming snack (Would you like a treat?).
  • Most importantly: He exuded love and adoration for us with zero ambivalence, expressing it regularly without ever, for a moment, getting tired of our company.

The years of love flowing from him made us utterly smitten. Someone came to my office recently, and noted that though the pictures of my family outnumbered the pictures of Louie, the biggest one in size was the painting my son’s friend made of our doggie, in exchange for a contribution we made to an animal services organization. Guilty as charged.

And yes, I’ve featured him here on this site, probably too much, and probably to the annoyance of those who just don’t get the dog thing. A sampling:

  1. There was a post about dog-related infections used as an excuse to post pictures about cute dogs, including Louie.
  2. How about this one about the importance of eye contact in clinical medicine? A perfect chance to show-off Louie’s super skill.
  3. Or another one, about the time he was attacked. He recovered quickly and harbored no hard feelings, what a good dog.
  4. I featured him with my brother’s and sister’s dogs, Zelda and Zoe. Why not?
  5. Here he posed with his favorite dessert plates, the china picked up by my wife in the bargain bin at local store. Yes, we bought a full set.

So lots of Louie here, the Star of the Show on this ID blog.

When I threw his toy or a ball, and he chased after it, he came romping back in a way perfectly embodied by the Charles Barsotti cartoon with the caption, And the crowd roars!

Wow, he learned to wag his tail in exchange for a treat! What a genius! He can even ride a bike!

To the non-animal lovers, I understand this post might not be your cup of tea. This kind of relationship is not for everyone, nor does it have much logic behind it. Why do we grow to love these animals so much? What causes us to generate endorphins when we pet them and stare into their eyes? Why do some people cry more at the death of their dogs than their family members? Makes zero sense.

We thought we had many more years of these tricks, and eye contact, and tail wags ahead.

But for those of us who have experienced it — this deep love for our pets that is returned by them more than a thousand-fold in exchange — I can assure you that watching them get seriously ill is utterly heartbreaking.

Which is why I’m writing this with tears streaming down my cheeks.

Let’s hope you rally, Louie, and that this is just some minor thing from a random scrap you picked up off the street, or a transient viral illness that just gets better with time.

But I am not optimistic. The unspoken messages conveyed by the vet as she told us of the ultrasound findings (we’re doctors, after all), and that she insisted he be admitted to the animal hospital for further workup — these do not engender hope.

I miss you already. ♥

September 19th, 2025

Two Drugs, Not Three: The DOLCE Study in Advanced HIV Disease

Three-drug therapy has been the standard of care for HIV therapy for so long it’s difficult to shake the view that it must be more effective than two drugs. This is particularly the case for those with advanced, HIV-related immunosuppression or very high viral loads, as they provide an important stress test for all regimens.

Remember the pivotal GEMINI studies, comparing initial two-drug treatment with DTG/3TC with three-drug regimens of TDF/FTC plus DTG? Overall, they found that the two-drug arm was noninferior in virologic response. But because of concerns about inadequate activity of using fewer drugs, the trial excluded participants with HIV RNA >500,000. Plus, in the small number of those who started with CD4 <200, the results hinted at a suboptimal response in the DTG/3TC arm.

Now, along comes the DOLCE study, which had an entry criterion that required a CD4 <200, limiting the study population to people with advanced HIV disease — a bold move. Conducted in Argentina and Brazil, DOLCE enrolled treatment-naive participants who then were randomized 2:1 to receive open-label DTG/3TC (given as a single pill) or TDF/XTC plus dolutegravir (DTG). Concomitant chronic hepatitis B was exclusionary.

If you’re new to this HIV treatment business, allow me this geeky digression: “XTC” here doesn’t refer to the 1980s New Wave band, but to lamivudine (3TC) or emtricitabine (FTC), which are interchangeable from a safety and virologic perspective. The names come from their chemical structures — 3TC from one of the 3’s in 2′,3′-dideoxy-3′-thiacytidine, FTC from its fluoro group. And yes, confusingly, lamivudine is “L” in TLD, the abbreviation for tenofovir-lamivudine-dolutegravir. Got it? There will be a quiz.

Ok, back to the study. DOLCE enrolled 229 participants, 152 assigned to DTG/3TC, and 77 to TDF/XTC + DTG. At baseline, the median CD4 cell count was 116, and the viral load was 151,000. Fully a third of the participants would not have qualified for the GEMINI trials, as 23% had viral loads >500,000, and 10% greater than 1 million.

At week 48, 82% in the DTG/3TC arm and 81% in the triple-therapy group achieved viral suppression (<50 copies/mL). Time to virologic suppression and CD4 outcomes were similar, with no hint that three drugs performed better. Notably, responses remained comparable with both strategies even in the group with very high viral loads (>500,000). No treatment-emergent resistance occurred.

All studies have limitations, and this one is no exception — each acknowledged by the authors. The DOLCE trial was relatively small and not powered in its primary analysis to make specific claims about noninferiority (though a post-hoc analysis suggested it would meet standard noninferiority criteria). Plus, as an open-label trial, the DTG/3TC arm had the benefit of a single-pill formulation, which was not the case in the three-drug arm. With only two South American countries participating and the study being predominantly men, the results might not be applicable in other settings, though there is no obvious reason to doubt effectiveness in broader populations.

Limitations notwithstanding, credit to the investigators for filling this gap in knowledge about DTG/3TC with a challenging patient population. The astute (and always quite witty) Dr. Laura Waters wrote a fine accompanying editorial, appropriately stating that the data are reassuring from the virologic and safety perspective — and noting that the underperformance of DTG/3TC in GEMINI was likely unrelated to its antiviral activity.

But she also noted that still missing is a clear benefit of two drugs over a regimen that contains TAF (not TDF)/FTC plus either DTG or BIC — none of the studies to date have found evidence that “less is more” when it comes to this comparison, which was not done here. It may turn out that the true advantage of the three-drug regimens with DTG or BIC is not that they’re three drugs with greater anti-HIV activity — but that they contain tenofovir, which has a happy additional effect of being a highly effective treatment and preventive strategy for hepatitis B.

Now take it away, XTC! And this time I don’t mean 2′,3′-dideoxy-3′-thiacytidine.

September 10th, 2025

When Required Learning Modules Surprise You (In a Good Way)

Like most clinicians, I have a checkered history with required online learning modules. You know the drill: click play, get lectured in monotone about hand hygiene or fire safety, then spend the next 8 minutes desperately searching for the fast-forward button, hoping it’s not disabled.

My personal low point (or high point, depending on your perspective) came years ago, when I proudly earned my Certificate of Completion for Disinfectant Wipes — Inpatient Settings. I even tweeted about it at the time, suggesting the Nobel Prize committee might want to give me a call.

(I’ve done you the favor of uploading proof to this site as the featured image, in case you doubt my credentials and are allergic to social media.)

So, when our hospital system announced an incentive program that required completion of something called the Equity-Informed High Reliability Organization (EIHRO) Level 1 Module, I wondered — who comes up with these titles? Is it a team of consultants paid by the syllable? My expectations hovered somewhere between “this is going to be tedious” and “could they imagine anything more soul-crushing?”

But here’s the shocker: it was excellent.

It’s not that the message was so profound or novel. It was the presentation — dynamic, engaging, and useful. Kudos to the narrator for keeping the topic moving along at a brisk pace and the video producer for including images and videos that didn’t look like they were pasted from a royalty-free site or bargain basement clip-art. The content came from a company called SG Collaborative Solutions, which was acquired years ago by a much more familiar player in this usually grim space, HealthStream.

The topic was how to address risk. Instead of the usual “don’t do this, do that” checklist, or calling bad events “mistakes” that trigger new policies, we need to understand the settings and systems that lead to adverse outcomes. It’s not enough to slap “Safety First!” into a mission statement. If you don’t understand the pressures of the actual workplace, the slogan does nothing. The recommended approach instead acknowledges that we all have competing priorities — productivity, efficiency, personal lives — and aims to optimize care in that realistic context.

Call me convinced. It’s a good lesson whether you’re a clinician caring for patients or at home reaching for a dish on a shelf that is a bit too high to reach comfortably. Wouldn’t it be smarter to keep a step stool handy than to wobble precariously on a kitchen chair? And for people who text and drive, just stop already. Which reminds me — to the cab driver in Philadelphia who was texting our entire drive to the airport, it’s not safer just because (as you confidently said when I asked you to stop), “It’s just my son.”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to update my CV:

  • 2019: Certified in Disinfectant Wipes
  • 2025: Equity Informed High Reliability Organization (EIHRO) Level 1 Module

Could this addition tip the scales for the judges in Stockholm?

September 4th, 2025

End-of-Summer Musings — Hepatitis B, Dalbavancin, Alpha-Gal, and More

The last time I did one of these quick “musings” posts, I listed 21, and someone asked me, “Why 21?” The answer — obviously — is that I originally planned on writing 20, but then had to add a 21st, just because that’s exactly how many points you need to win a ping pong game.

So here are a bunch more, in honor of another important racquet sport, tennis, which this weekend will reach the culmination of its grueling season in the finals of the US Open. Stick around to the end to see how I tie it in.

1. Hepatitis B transmission occurred in a nursing home from a contaminated glucometer. As is commonly done, glucometers at the skilled nursing facility were shared among several residents. Even though the disinfection protocols were apparently followed appropriately, a person with chronic hepatitis B was the source of a transmission. In an era of near-universal hepatitis B immunization and dropping prevalence of chronic HBV, it’s worth remembering that among our blood-borne pathogens (HIV, HCV, HBV), HBV is by far the most contagious.

2. A strategy of two doses of dalbavancin 1 week apart for Staph aureus bacteremia was noninferior to 4-8 weeks of daily therapy. However, it was not superior based on the primary “desirability of outcome ranking,” or DOOR endpoint. I think noninferior for clinical endpoints is still important for something as transformative as just two doses, though cost remains a huge barrier for dalbavancin. And get ready for a bunch of studies that use this novel DOOR composite endpoint, which incorporates clinical success, infectious complications, safety complications, mortality, and health-related quality of life.

3. Alpha-gal syndrome is tick-related, is increasingly common — but no, it’s not an infectious disease. Raise your hand if, as an ID doctor, you have been asked anyway to comment on the diagnosis or management of this allergic reaction to the sugar molecule galactose-alpha-1,3-galactose. Here’s the chemical structure, in case you’d like to synthesize it during your free time.

4. I thought you couldn’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Tell me — who would buy this gizmo? Even for only 10 dollars, I just can’t see the use case.

5. Two-drug initial therapy with dolutegravir/lamivudine provided similar results to a standard three-drug regimen of TDF/FTC plus dolutegravir, even in people with advanced HIV disease. I’ll have more to say about this important study in a later post, along with the fine editorial by Dr. Laura Waters — who also issued some wise career advice as she is about to leave her current position in Britain’s National Health Service.

6. China this summer battled an increase in chikungunya cases in Guangdong Province. We periodically see cases in the United States in returning travelers, especially coming from the Caribbean and South America. It is impressive how debilitating the post-infectious arthritis can be with this dengue- and zika-like virus.

7. I received a bunch of supportive comments and emails about my rant against learning objectives, thank you. A favorite was one from Andrea Demeter, who cleverly took to AI to find reasons to get rid of them — which she must have known would prove my point! But if they’re here to stay, maybe in the future AI can generate the learning objectives, generate the lecture and PowerPoint slides, and then generate the evaluation of whether the lecture met the learning objectives. Magic! And no learning required.

8. Federal, state, and professional societies now issue competing (and sometimes contradictory) vaccine recommendations. Examples: Florida plans to eliminate school requirements for vaccines, while California, Oregon, and Washington band together to ensure communication of “credible information” on vaccines, and Massachusetts makes COVID boosters available for all older than 5. You’d think we live in different countries or something. My Boston ID colleague, Dr. Shira Doron, said it best: “The chaos just doesn’t end.”

9. This group argues persuasively that we should designate Chagas disease endemic in the United States. There’s no doubt that this parasitic infection is far more common in our country than we realize, and that autochthonous transmission occurs here — especially in the Southwest. The labeling of the United States as nonendemic leads to inadequate surveillance and clinical knowledge about this potentially serious parasitic infection.

10. Some of the “friends” that dogs bring home are more welcome than others:

11. In this randomized clinical trial conducted in adults older than 65, high-dose influenza vaccine did not prevent pneumonia or hospitalization better than standard dose. The study was large and well-conducted, enrolling 332,438 participants. 332,438! Is this study the final word on this strategy as we await a better flu vaccine?

12. Switching people with HIV on second-line boosted-PI regimens to BIC/FTC/TAF was noninferior to continued PI therapy. Results reinforce the results from the 2SD and VISEND (Arm A) studies, but add baseline retrospective proviral DNA resistance testing in the bictegravir arm, which demonstrated a high prevalence of NRTI resistance. Hat-tip to Drs. Patrice Severe and Serena Koenig and the GHESKIO team for completing this clinical trial during a time of extraordinary civil unrest in Haiti. (I was a co-investigator.) Good accompanying editorial.

13. There have been six rabies deaths in the US in the past 12 months. This is more than the usual number — typically one to three, some years there are zero — for reasons that are unclear. Can anyone find reference to this on the CDC site? Because tracking rabies and the previously mentioned Chagas disease are exactly why we need a strong agency to do national surveillance for infectious threats. The states simply can’t do it all.

14. If you like documentaries about brilliant songwriters, put these two on your list. The first is about Billy Joel — you might have heard of him (you think?); he has a fascinating biography to back up his impressive song catalogue. I enjoyed it a ton even though I’m lukewarm about much of his music. The more obscure offering is about Charles Fox, a person unknown to me before watching this film. But let’s just say if there’s a soundtrack for us boomers who watched TV growing up, he’s written it.

15. HHS cancelled nearly half a billion dollars in research support for mRNA vaccines. This follows cancellation of a grant to Moderna of 800 million dollars. Vaccine experts consider this technology the most efficient way to respond to a pandemic threat; it also has promise for immune-based cancer therapeutics. Discouraging.

16. I liked this critical piece that highlights issues with excess screening requirements in primary care. Problems include misplaced incentives, strategies that are hardly evidenced-based, and fatigued or distracted providers who then miss the important aspects of patient care. We saw this recently as our electronic medical record flagged absence of hepatitis B immunity in all patient’s charts — for what reason, exactly? Drove multiple clinicians nuts with frustration.

17. What’s going on with pivmecillinam? With gepotidacin? With sulopenem? All three have FDA approval to treat UTIs, none is yet available in US pharmacies. The full name of the last one is “sulopenem etzadroxil with probenecid,” but I defy you to type that out every time you write it.

Seventeen Musings! That’s the age of Serena Williams when she won her first tennis Grand Slam title in 1999. And now, in all it’s glory, is a piece that explains why you should play tennis if you can:

18. We fanatics all read and cheered this tribute to the world’s greatest sport. So much here to love: the growing popularity (pickleball notwithstanding), the fitness advantages, the effects on brain health, the chance to play a sport for a whole lifetime. For the record, I think there’s room in the world for lots of racquet sports — tennis, pickleball, padel, squash, racquetball, badminton, ping pong… And not that she needs it, but I’d bet this is the first time that the writing of Alexandra Moe has been featured in an ID blog.

Ok, eighteen Musings — that’s a good number. It even has its own Wikipedia page!

August 29th, 2025

Watching the Chaos at the CDC — with Sadness and Alarm

Throughout my career as an infectious diseases doctor, the CDC has been a rock-solid source.

  • Need reliable data on an outbreak? The CDC.
  • Need thoughtful, evidence-based guidelines? The CDC.
  • Need an authoritative reference for a consult question or to steer a colleague or trainee to the right place? The CDC.
  • Need the latest, most accurate surveillance information on HIV or influenza or dengue or you-name-it? The CDC.
  • Need advice for your friend doing anthropology research in rural Bolivia and wondering whether they should take malaria prophylaxis (yes), and what it should be (multiple options)? The CDC.

Did I always agree with every word? Of course not. Show me an ID doctor who always agrees with every guideline, and I’ll show you a cephalosporin that covers enterococcus.

For example, for years I’ve thought we’re too aggressive with “bat in bedroom, no bite” postexposure prophylaxis, preferring the Canadian approach. But I never doubted the people making the U.S. guidelines had done their homework with integrity; they weren’t part of some sinister rabies vaccine/immunoglobulin cabal. It was a difference in opinion, that’s all.

And I trusted the people. The ones I’ve known who have worked at the CDC are mission-driven and incredibly hard-working. They’re not looking for fame or fortune, to cultivate a brand, or to make a splash in the media. You don’t expect to see a TikTok video from a CDC official. They’re the kind of colleagues who disappear into data sets, surveillance reports, and fieldwork, all in the service of preventing disease and saving lives.

So what happened?

In a word: COVID. The pandemic was the public health earthquake of our lives, and the aftershocks continue. The CDC is one of its casualties. Instead of learning from missteps and strengthening the institution, we’re watching it be weakened — deliberately, in some cases, and it seems with pointless vengeance. The critics who scream the loudest treat it as if every imperfect COVID recommendation, every adjustment of guidance in real time, every policy now viewed as incorrect with 20-20 hindsight, was a betrayal and not a best effort to help us cope with this new, tricky virus.

Let’s acknowledge that perfection was impossible in the face of an unprecedented global crisis. Guidance had to evolve, sometimes rapidly. To punish the agency now is like telling tennis star Carlos Alcaraz he can’t compete in the U.S. Open because he lost in the Wimbledon finals.

Yes, the stakes were high during COVID, but nobody — NOBODY — got it 100% right.

The result? One of our most reliable public health institutions is being destroyed by non-experts in medicine and public health. People with disturbing beliefs about infectious diseases in general and vaccines in particular. And who knows what the next year or years will bring? Who will we turn to then?

For those of us who have leaned on the CDC our entire careers, watching its destruction at the hands of non-experts is not just disorienting — it’s heartbreaking, and makes me very, very sad.

August 22nd, 2025

On the Internet, Nobody Read My First Blog

Not the site’s banner, but you get the point. (AI generated.)

In 2007, during the boom in online blogging, and right before the economy crashed, a medical education company contacted me and three other ID doctors to write a blog about HIV. The pitch was irresistible — write something about HIV on a regular basis (they didn’t say what), and we’ll promote it widely. Oh, and you’ll get paid!

The lead from the company certainly conveyed enthusiasm. He made the inevitable “viral” pun (ha ha, we all chuckled politely), and unveiled a clever name. It had “expansion potential,” he said: We’ll start with this one on HIV, but later we could launch one on Oncology, Dermatology, Hirudotherapy*.

(*Leech therapy — so not really that.)

He also mentioned how much interest he’d already received from the various companies that developed HIV treatments. Indeed, they planned to sell ads once the internet traffic came pouring in. It was all very promising.

I enthusiastically signed up. Then I wrote a few pieces, none of them in hindsight very good, and sent them to the person responsible for posting them online.

It launched in the spring of 2007, including an inaugural piece of mine called “Some Non-Scientific Thoughts on CROI” where I complained about CROI holding its opening night during the Academy Awards — in Los Angeles, no less. (Yes, they did that.)

Then I waited for the flood of insightful comments. You know, Web 2.0.

The response?

It got worse from there. Reader engagement went from sparse to nonexistent. The site was glitchy, forcing people to reset their passwords for no apparent reason. You can only clear your browser cache so many times before bolting. Even in 2007, patience for that kind of frustration was in short supply.

And the design of the site? It typified the overall look of the early-ish internet — low resolution, bad colors, possibly done with an open-access graphics program by someone’s 8th grader. You want pop-up windows? We’ve got pop-up windows!

The combination of sporadic content and technical obstacles hardly created the kind of user experience to encourage participation. The site closed up shop in less than a year, a much less famous failure than Lehman Brothers, which shared a similar fate and termination date.

But despite the false start, I’m grateful to the organizers for their optimism and for getting me going — you have to start somewhere. That was the lesson I learned in hindsight. It won’t always be a success, but it’s worth putting the words on the page, even if you later cringe at the whole effort.

That’s true for any creative pursuit — painting, music, pottery, bonsai tree cultivation. False starts are still starts, cringeworthy though they may be.

Most importantly, when the NEJM Journal Watch editor Matt O’Rourke considered expanding the Journal Watch content to include blogs, I had some experience with the medium, and could send him some of my posts — now revised, reworked, and improved, of course!

(Revision is an amazing thing. Another lesson learned.)

Would I have been able to launch this effort without that initial experience? Unlikely.

And as a reminder that even the most enduring internet creations start somewhere, here’s Peter Steiner talking about his own legendary contribution to world humor — the brilliant, timeless cartoon “On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.”

It started just another sketch in a pile of many, and was hardly his first try.

August 16th, 2025

Anal Cancer Screening in HIV: When Guidelines Get Ahead of the Evidence

Should every person with HIV over age 35 (if MSM or transgender woman) or 45 (everyone else) have an anal Pap smear, a digital anal rectal exam (DARE), and possibly a high-resolution anoscopy every 1–2 years? According to recent guidelines, yes. But here’s the problem: we don’t know if this screening effort actually prevents cancer.

First, some facts:

  1. Human papillomavirus (HPV) infection is necessary, but not sufficient, for the development of anal cancer.
  2. Both HPV prevalence and anal cancer incidence are higher in PWH than in those without HIV.
  3. The natural history of HPV leading to anal cancer is similar to cervical cancer.
  4. Cervical cancer screening programs have reduced incidence of that disease.
  5. In the ANCHOR trial, treatment of biopsy-confirmed, high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesions (HSIL) in PWH reduced the risk of anal cancer.

So far, so good.

The temptation, therefore, is to apply our cervical-cancer-prevention model directly to anal cancer, and that’s an approach many have advocated for years. But here’s the problem — there’s no proof this works. As Dr. Hayden Andrews wrote in a recent State-of-the-Art review in Clinical Infectious Diseases (Note: I am currently editor-in-chief of this journal):

To date, no trial has been conducted to determine if anal cancer screening among PWH decreases anal cancer incidence.

And if you think about it for a nanosecond, that’s not surprising! Demonstrating that cancer screening improves outcomes is notoriously hard. Just ask anyone who studies breast, prostate, lung, or colorectal screening — and those cancers are far more common than anal cancer, and have been far more widely studied.

This gets to the core of why I believe the International Anal Neoplasia Society guidelines — later reinforced by the Department of Health and Human Services HIV guidelines — are premature and overly aggressive. They’re posted in our clinic workroom, so I’m constantly reminded of just how broad they are. The recommendations show up in this Bluesky post of mine, along with my incredulous query:

Calling all HIV/ID providers: How many are able to do this screening for anal cancer according to IANS? Including the HRA and repeat screening every 1-2 years (!!) for normal results? Wow, that's a lot of screening tests in a lot of people! #IDSky #HIVsky onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/…

Paul Sax (@paulsaxmd.bsky.social) 2025-08-15T17:39:22.614Z

Wow (again) — all MSM and transgender women older than 35? All men and women older than 45? Referral of all abnormal results to high-resolution anoscopy? Then repeat the process if normal results every 1-2 years? My goodness.

Some issues that make broad screening problematic:

  • Poor test performance: Anal cytology via Pap smears has low sensitivity for HSIL even in high-prevalence populations; it also has high interobserver variability and lots of unsatisfactory or ASCUS results. Read Dr. Amit Achhra’s paper describing their experience at Yale — disappointing, both in terms of accuracy of anal cytology and patient participation! Digital anal rectal exams (DARE) can pick up anal cancer, but lack sensitivity for HSIL, the key precancerous lesions.
  • Limited access to the best test:  High-resolution anoscopy (HRA) is superior to anal cytology, but many clinical sites have few or even no trained providers to do the exams. I know of one site that cares for thousands of patients and has zero access to HRA.
  • Patient burden:  Local anaesthesia, discomfort, repeat visits, cost, and anxiety aren’t trivial.
  • Unclear screening frequency:  The evidence for how often to screen is even weaker than whether we should screen at all.

Add to this the medicolegal bind these guidelines create — if you follow them, you may overwhelm your local system or excessively burden your patients; if you don’t, you risk looking negligent in hindsight. It’s the perfect recipe for a frustrated group of HIV providers, as we’re doomed to fail (and we obsessive ID types hate failing). I really do wonder what fraction of us are in “compliance” with these guidelines. I’d bet good money it’s very low!

As the late David Sackett, one of the founders of evidenced-based medicine, once wrote, “the fundamental promise we make when we actively solicit individuals and exhort them to accept preventive interventions must be that, on average, they will be the better for it… Without evidence from positive randomized trials … we cannot justify soliciting the well to accept any personal health intervention.”

That’s exactly the unease many of us feel with these guidelines (and thanks to Amit for pointing me to this great quote).

I shared my concerns with Dr. Grant Ellsworth, a member of the DHHS guidelines committee who heads the HPV section, and obviously knows a lot more about this field than I do. In addition to looking forward to a time when HPV testing is routinely incorporated to reduce over-screening, he made some additional valuable comments:

Amit Achhra’s paper really highlights how poor a screening tool cytology can be. They had high unsatisfactory rates and frankly outlying poor performance — even at a place like Yale. If Yale can’t pull it off, who can? My other hesitation with the current recommendations is that I’m not sure ANCHOR’s results can be reproduced in the real world. The study sites had an onerous and expensive training process, with ongoing audits to maintain quality. Sure, we can screen for anal HSIL, but will your clinic be able to find and treat it at the same level as ANCHOR?

That last question is key — if the idealized trial environment can’t be replicated in everyday practice, then the guidelines risk being aspirational rather than accomplishing their goal.

Here’s what I’d do until we have better evidence.

  • State up front that although we know that anal cancer is more common in people with HIV, we don’t know if screening helps reduce the risk over a strategy of not screening.
  • Start discussions at age 50 (or younger if other strong risk factors:  low nadir CD4, smoking).
  • Offer shared decision-making, not automatic screening. What does the patient want? We do this with the PSA, why not this test?
  • Skip the anal Pap entirely, and go directly to HRA for those who choose screening. If HRA isn’t available, focus on HPV testing.
  • Repeat no more often than every 3-5 years, or some other interval to be determined by baseline risk.

This approach acknowledges that the ANCHOR trial answered only one question — whether treating HSIL reduces cancer incidence. It emphatically did not address the important questions of how to screen, whom to screen, and how often to do it.

I’m afraid answers will only come from further clinical studies.

August 6th, 2025

Does the Fact That AI Is Brilliant at Writing “Learning Objectives” Prove They’re Not Really Needed?

Paramount Pictures, 1932.

Recently, I was invited to speak at a primary care conference on a terrific topic: “Can’t Miss Diagnoses in ID for the PCP.”

Love it. So many great examples come to mind — endocarditis, Lemierre syndrome, vertebral osteomyelitis, acute HIV. A wonderful opportunity to teach about the “rare but there” diagnoses hidden among everyday outpatient complaints: fatigue, sore throat, back pain, and “mono,” respectively.

I was all in.

You know what I wasn’t all in on? The inevitable mountain of paperwork that followed. Veterans of academic medicine know what’s coming: the dreaded email with five attachments, multiple forms, and of course — the request for Learning Objectives.

First, let me remind everyone of the Universal Rule of Email Avoidance:

The likelihood of an email being answered promptly is inversely proportional to the square of the number of attachments.

Now, back to the Learning Objectives, which will occupy the remainder of this post. They’re short statements (usually three, range 2–5) that describe what the audience is supposed to learn from a lecture. Education experts say they help focus the talk and make evaluation easier. Accrediting bodies like ACCME require them for Continuing Medical Education (CME) credit. (Mea culpa:  This is true even for our course, ID in Primary Care, despite this rant to follow. Sorry.) Hence their ubiquity, and the fact that every talk now asks for them.

Some excellent educators defend them as a helpful way to structure a talk. Fair enough; if they work for you, terrific. And there are numerous authorities in both written and video form on how to write effective Learning Objectives, so you can study up to your heart’s content.

(Go ahead, watch one of those videos in its entirety. I dare you. To me, they are mind-numbingly boring — but to each their own, I guess.)

But let’s not pretend Learning Objectives are an essential part of effective teaching. So much of what will be conveyed in a talk can be communicated in the talk’s title, plus (if requested) a 2–3 sentence summary. And that process of using learning objectives to organize a talk? We used to call that “making an outline.”  No pre-talk submission required, no adhering to SMART criteria — which stands for “specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and timebound,” in case you were wondering.

Fortunately, there’s now a solution: Artificial Intelligence — which has gotten so good at writing Learning Objectives that the task is now completely frictionless. I guess this is no surprise, as even in the stone age of AI (like, last year), it was great at streamlining workplace drudgery.

Here’s the prompt:

“Write 3 learning objectives for a talk called ‘Can’t Miss Diagnoses in ID for the Primary Care Provider.’”

Now watch the magic, example #1 from ChatGPT:

At the end of this presentation, learners will be able to:

  1. Identify key clinical features of uncommon but serious infectious diseases that may initially present with nonspecific symptoms in primary care settings.

  2. Apply diagnostic reasoning to distinguish these conditions from more common, benign illnesses through targeted history, physical examination, and appropriate use of laboratory and imaging studies.

  3. Initiate timely management and specialist referral when these high-stakes infections are suspected, to reduce morbidity and improve patient outcomes.

Bravo. These are far better than anything I could have done, mostly because my Learning Objectives are always written with a combination of mild annoyance and the driving motivation not to let “perfect” be the enemy of “just get it done already.”

Didn’t like these ChatGPT products? Go ahead and try Gemini. Or CoPilot.

Voilà! Problem solved. These are so good, it’s downright scary. No thinking required. Copy, paste, submit. Or just send the organizers a link or generate a QR code for handy scanning.

But here’s the problem: if AI can generate them instantly — without context or understanding or board certification in Infectious Diseases — what are Learning Objectives really worth? How many people actually read them? At the end of a talk, no one says, “Wow, those Learning Objectives were beautifully met.”

Instead, we say:

Was that a good talk? Did I learn something useful? Was I engaged? Or was I bored out of my mind, checking my phone?

So I’m sticking with the view that it’s hardly ever about the Learning Objectives. Let’s stop pretending otherwise.

And a plea to the leaders of medical education: could you please — please — lighten the paperwork load for clinical teachers? That would be hugely appreciated.

Let’s close with a scene that proves exasperation with institutional nonsense in education is timeless. These guys had it pegged nearly a century ago.

August 2nd, 2025

The Short Political Half-life of a Medical Contrarian

In early May, I wrote about the surprising FDA appointment of Dr. Vinay Prasad to lead the FDA’s Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research.  Prasad is a UCSF hematologist-oncologist known for his views on COVID-19, oncology clinical trials, and his sometimes sharp-elbowed communication style, in particular directed at people with whom he disagrees. My goal was to write something balanced, and even hopeful, acknowledging both Prasad’s impressive skills in interpreting medical evidence and his well-documented provocations, at least as viewed from the perspective of an ID doctor.

Let’s just say: not everyone loved that piece.

I wrapped up that post with this:

Ultimately, my deepest hope — and I suspect everyone’s — is that this appointment of Dr. Vinay Prasad leads to a continued focus on improving the safety, efficacy, and public trust in biologics, especially vaccines. We need rigorous science, honest communication, and thoughtful leadership more than ever.

That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? The comments I received here on this site were quite thoughtful, led by Dr. Jonathan Blum’s clever “I am cautiously pessimistic” — ha! I also got a nice note from Dr. Adam Cifu, who is a friend of Prasad’s and co-founded the interesting Sensible Medicine newsletter with him.

But, judging by some of the responses I received by email or on social media, you’d have thought I’d volunteered to ghostwrite for RFK Jr. For those who think Bluesky is the kinder, gentler social media platform, allowing only polite and balanced responses — I have some strong evidence to the contrary. Yeesh. Turns out anonymous burner accounts are nasty no matter where they post.

Now, not even 3 months later, Prasad is out. Officially, he resigned — the classic “time with family” explanation. Unofficially? He’s gone because he did what we say we want FDA leaders to do: he questioned the approval of an expensive, potentially toxic therapy with scant evidence of benefit.

And no, this wasn’t about COVID-19. Or vaccines. Or even infectious diseases.

It was about a treatment for Duchenne muscular dystrophy — a tragic and incurable disease that understandably generates passionate advocacy and whose therapies have a long track record of FDA controversy.

But after a Wall Street Journal op-ed from a non-physician critic and some well-placed accusations of political disloyalty (apparently, he’s too much of a Bernie guy now?), he’s gone. Just like that.

This raises a disheartening possibility: that both his appointment and his dismissal had less to do with his ability to interpret clinical studies and more to do with politics, all while mixing in an unhealthy tincture of conflict of interest.

That’s deeply unfortunate — because whether you loved or loathed Prasad’s presence at the FDA, one thing is clear: science-based public health leadership shouldn’t be a partisan tug-of-war. Not when trust in our institutions is already on shaky ground.

I’d like to give the last word to one of my long-term mentors, a now-retired ID doctor who held some important government positions during his distinguished career. He’s been watching this turn of events with detached amusement from his summer home, and wrote me this sage comment in a terse email:

It’s a lot easier throwing bombs at others from the outside than taking criticism coming in.

Isn’t that the truth?

And speaking of sharp thinkers who challenged conventional wisdom, and because last week I finished with a tribute to some recent celebrities who died, this past week we lost satirist-mathematician Tom Lehrer at age 97. His songs were a master class in wit, skepticism, and brainy mischief — all qualities that (whether you like him or not) Prasad might admire.

Lehrer’s work also brings back fond memories of the smartest kid in my school, my friend Jimmy P, who introduced me to these nerdy musical gems. (I was an 8.5/10 on the nerd scale; Jimmy easily 10/10.) If you’ve never seen it — or just want to be reminded how funny chemistry can be in the right context — here’s one of the all-time classics:

What a talent — even rivals Ozzy Osbourne.

July 25th, 2025

Who Gets Sent to ID Clinic? A Field Guide to Outpatient Referrals

Sometimes people ask me what kind of cases get referred to ID doctors in the outpatient setting. Despite what the latest television series might suggest, it’s rarely suspected Ebola (fortunately) or Tsutsugamushi fever — a disease that is much more fun to say by its Japanese name than its common one, scrub typhus.

(In Japanese, “tsutsuga” means “hindrance” or “illness,” and “mushi” means “insect” or “vermin”. Now you know!)

Instead, the cases generally fall into one of these four broad categories:

1. Diagnostic dilemmas. The clinical gestalt suggests infection, there’s no diagnosis, and the patient isn’t getting better. You know, Box #4 of the Four States of Clinical Medicine — “No diagnosis, not improving,” the most unstable box to be in. Let’s see if our diagnostic skills can get the patient out of that box as fast as possible.

Fever of unknown origin is the classic example, but it could be a red limb unresponsive to empiric antibiotics, refractory diarrhea, disabling night sweats, or the cough that just won’t go away.

A somewhat different version of these dilemma cases (but still in this category) is the patient reporting extensive infectious exposure, and now new symptoms that could be related. If a construction worker has just returned from an excavation project in Tucson, where he oversaw trenching and grading operations (or whatever excavators do), you’d think of a certain fungal infection if he now showed up with a cough and low grade fever. Or it could just be a viral upper respiratory infection.

Closer to home, infection would be top of the list if a restaurant worker from a New England seafood restaurant had slowly growing nodular red bumps up her arm. Fun fact: the person most likely to have M. marinum isn’t your friend with the aquarium — it’s the sous chef cleaning lobsters with a Band-Aid on a scraped knuckle.

Sometimes it’s just profound fatigue after an infection — in ID, we were seeing post-infectious fatigue long before COVID-19 (after sepsis, Epstein-Barr virus, cytomegalovirus, influenza, lyme), and COVID has certainly increased that pool of unfortunate patients. Yes, many of these referrals turn out not to be active infections, or infection-related, at all — but that’s for us to figure out. We’re the “it might be an infection” people.

2. Unusual diagnoses to nonspecialists. These are infections that primary care clinicians might see only occasionally, but that land in our inboxes daily. HIV, osteomyelitis, endocarditis, tuberculosis, nontuberculous mycobacteria, prosthetic joint and other hardware infections, multi-drug resistant bacterial infections, and the full spectrum of syphilis. (Examples of this last one: secondary syphilis with uveitis, or tinnitus, or some other bizarre manifestation of this quintessentially protean disease.) Hepatitis C used to fall into this category, especially in the interferon and early direct-acting antiviral era, but now treatment has become so simple that most patients get treated (and cured!) in primary care. Still amazed at that transformation.

Vertebral osteomyelitis is a striking example of this category — rare to primary care, common to us. A busy first-year ID fellow may see more than a dozen of cases over the year on the inpatient consult service, whereas a primary care clinician will evaluate hundreds of patients with back pain over several years. But chances are good that none of them has vertebral osteomyelitis.

Not surprisingly, many of these patients are diagnosed during a hospital stay. Since most generalists today focus on either inpatient or outpatient care (not both), we often inherit these cases post-discharge after an inpatient consult.

3. Unusual diagnoses — even to us! These are the real fascinomas, the ones that earn a coveted slot in ID case conferences and elicit audible gasps, especially if there are good images.

Here in temperate Boston, parasitic infections and tropical diseases make the list, as do systemic fungi, nocardia (which straddles the line between fungus and bacterium — I hope that’s not insulting to nocardia), and various other medical oddities. Infections that were once common but are now mostly vanquished also show up, and here’s when having gray hair as a “seasoned” clinician (I wonder who that could be) is a plus. One recent example is a referral we received for a fever and an unusual pustular rash that turned out to be … varicella … better known as chickenpox.

But for many of these true rarities (not chickenpox, but rather melioidosis or leishmaniasis or cysticercosis, et al.), there are usually only a handful of true experts, and we ID doctors often act as the conduits to them. Luckily, they’re often generous with their time when we call or email. Thank you, remote consult heroes!

4. Very common diagnoses — but with a twist. Finally, the largest category. These are the bread-and-butter infections that just won’t go away, or keep coming back, or are sometimes particularly severe. Recurrent cellulitis, sometimes complicated by bacteremia and requiring hospitalization. Chronic sinusitis. Nonhealing wound infections. And leading the pack by a wide margin: urinary tract infections (UTIs).

UTIs may never make the headlines in medical mystery columns, but what they lack in novelty they more than make up for in frequency — and in misery, for the frustrated patients who suffer through them. Challenging UTIs are so common in ID clinic that we really ought to start a loyalty program. Fortunately, two of my colleagues — Drs. Sigal Yawetz and Jacob Lazarus — specialize in these cases and generously share their expertise with the rest of us.

If you’re looking for guidance on managing UTIs, you’re in luck: two outstanding new publications have just come out to help clinicians navigate both recurrent and complicated cases:

Each comes with practical tools, evidence-based recommendations, and at least one flowchart you’ll find yourself referring to again and again — whether you’re in clinic or on the wards.

Wow, quite the week for deaths of some notable celebrities from my youth and young adulthood — Ozzy Osbourne, Hulk Hogan, Chuck Mangione, Malcolm Jamal Warner (particularly sad, given his age). I can’t say any of them was a particular favorite, though of course I knew of them all, with Chuck Mangione’s “Feels So Good” playing on perpetual repeat during my senior year of high school.

Who to feature here at the end of this ID blog? I’m going to go with Ozzy, in honor of the self-awareness he developed later in life (especially on the reality TV show he did with his very appealing wife Sharon), and as a gift to my mother, who turns 91 today. She loved his music.

That, my dear readers, is sarcasm. Happy birthday, Mom!

HIV Information: Author Paul Sax, M.D.

Paul E. Sax, MD

Contributing Editor

NEJM Journal Watch
Infectious Diseases

Biography | Disclosures | Summaries

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